


With out you

by Tak



Category: Dragon Age Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-23
Updated: 2013-10-23
Packaged: 2017-12-30 06:56:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1015530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tak/pseuds/Tak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by a theory I saw on tumblr about why Zevran took the fight back to the crows. (As mentioned in the epilogue)<br/>As sad as it was, I think it fits</p>
            </blockquote>





	With out you

Working for the Ferelden throne just proved to twist the knife in the wound that was his lost love. The King was kind to him, as he sure was part of his parting words with Dae, he had a home in Ferelden if he wanted it.  
Once he wouldn't have minded it, once he considered braving the icy winters and frigid people and terrible wine, because she, His warden, his love made it worth while.  
He stood on the step of castle. Watching the sun set, Remi the Mabari pacing in his private kennel. He was not able to be housed with the palace hounds. Since the death of his mistress he became decidedly aggressive, and preferred pacing his kennel coming out only for the assassin, so the two of them could spend time quietly reflecting.  
Zevran felt the same, he was the lion with the thorn stuck in his foot, haunted by a feeling he didn't understand nor could shake.  
When the crows came for him first in Ferelden the idea crept into his mind like a vine up a tree, weaving it tendrils through him gripping him and not letting go.  
Go out in a blaze of glory, after all what life was left? save to potter around and grow old and fat?  
~  
Antiva was rife with life and heat. People bustled through the markets, music roared and lilted as he passed one block to another, the sounds ebbing and beginning anew along with each new sent of spice, fish, flower or leather. He brought a leather bound book, thinking about the days spent through summer sitting shoulder to shoulder, telling her stories teaching her language, laughing and loving as she wrote everything down in the sketch book that never left her side. The thought of where the book ended up when she died had just begun to niggle at him as out of the corner of his eye he saw an ominous figure.  
Four crows in the market. The hunt was on. He left the saftey and bustle of people for one of the many winding and curving side alleys. Un sheathing his duel weapons ready for the challenge.  
Once free of the general rabble of the people, they closed in on him like hungry wolves. Each Vying for the prise that was is hide. The rogues danced forward in unison. Their training immaculate. Their experience second to none. These were not just apprentices or lackeys come to bring in a stray. These were master assassins sent to hunt him. One blade glanced his arm as their blades clanged together. Using the walls and each of them to fend off the others.  
A wild stab was made. Catching him off guard the blade cutting through his armour and sliding into his skin, piercing his belly.  
He lashed out furiously, his blade opening the offending crows throat, no more than an airless scream escaping his lips as his oesophagusand jugular were opened, left to spill into the streetjs. Zevran stumbled backwards taking the distraction to put more space between the three remaining.

The alley he chose was a dead end. Tall white brick made a smooth escape-less wall. He rested his back against it. As he slid to the ground he wrenched the knife from his side, sending the bloody tool clattering down the path. He was growing faint, his body heavy, an ache had moved from the wound to his bones. As his hand instinctively held the gash he sat slowing his breathing, giving up On the fight.

She grew from a shadow, the blackest part becoming her hair, her form pulling itself into existence out of wisps of shadow.  
She was just as she had been, dark blue eyes, a cascade of black as ink hair falling loose about her shoulder. Fair skin made paler by the soft blue dress that caressed her body.  
"Oh Zevran." She said gently her soft fingers under his chin to til his head to her. "What have you done?"  
He managed a small ironic laugh and reached up to touch the apperation of his lost warden. His bloody hand smearing a red mark across her fair and rosy cheek.  
If this was his death, he would go willingly.  
"Bella Dama, why don't you leave that old crow to us?" Chimed from down the street.  
Dae stood turning to them slowly, her hair catching in the wind the blood on her skin making her look far more pale than she began.  
With out dropping her gaze she signalled to Zevran, slowly raising her hand and him with it.  
"Rise," she whispered, as he moved like her puppet, un sheathing his blades to return to a fight he had long since given up.  
"Witch." They shouted as Dae blinked from reality, Zevran lurching forward in her place.  
The battle was a blur, like a drunken fight. Yet every cut and every block met its mark. His body moved like the possessed with the strength of some one embedded with demons.  
The last crow left backed up drawing his bow. Holding a shaking arrow trained at his heart.  
Dae flashed back, like a flickering candle behind him, as her image became stronger her hand slid across the chin of his aggressor, and in one swift movement she snapped the archers neck.  
Stepping over the corpse, she looked like she had the blight. her dark eyes turned white, her skin almost grey, she took Zevran's hand letting him collapse into her finally. Together they lowered to their knees. Nose to nose she held him tight as he slipped into unconscious ness a warm feeling spreading through his body.

"Ma'am" a small voice called out to Vitoria From a corner alley.  
Not one to be taken in by a thief's plea for help Vitoria's eyes wearily followed the voice.  
The girl waved to her leaning heavily on the side of the building. Pale eyes surrounded by dark sunken rings, face smeared in blood.  
"Please we need help." A dainty hand coaxed her around the bend and the girl slid away, tattered dress whispering in the wind.  
In the alley all Vitoria Saw was a man he leant against a wall, head bowed forward.  
She recognised the blond hair that cascaded into his lap. The ears and the dark double lined tattoo. He was skin and bones the last she saw of him, the tiny boy with the grin bigger than he was. 

Zevran was no where, and yet some where. The world felt like he was viewing it through the bottom of a glass. Murky green mist fogged his vision. Though all there was to see was rocks. Dae flickered into view looking far sicker than when she first appeared to him.  
He reached to her, his hand passing through her form displacing her image like she was made from smoke.  
"I'm so sorry." Her eyes filling with tears. "I never wanted to leave you."  
"You look sick." Was all his brain would let him utter.  
She laughed and dried her eyes with the back of her hand "I am dead zev."  
He shook his head. "You seem to be fading."  
"The dead cannot walk with the living." She sighed "the magic I used to save you was not good."  
"Then why do it?" He was sure he had shouted but the green mist ate the sound as it closed in around them.  
"This place is cold and dark." She began "and you are warm and light," she stepped close to him "you have so much life left, go and live it."  
He shook his head "I don't want to with out you."  
"The sun loves the moon but only gets to hold her when she eclipse him."  
He frowned, not understanding her riddles  
"When your turn comes, I will be there to take your hand"  
To emphasise the point, she took his hand, her flesh becoming caporal. Their fingers intertwining. She leaned forward as the mist enveloped them kissing his lips, her hand holding his cheek. He tried to hold her, but she was ebbing away. He grasped at every last particle of her, but again he was left with only her memory,  
~  
Waking to the sound of something being placed beside his head. Zeveran's opened his eyes a crack.  
"Well look at you back from the dead." Vitoria chuckled placing a couple honey suckle flowers in the vase she had just placed at his bedside.  
"I have to admit you were the last I would have thought I had found here,"  
The human woman fussed about the room, he remembered her being giant, standing as tall or taller than her human men clients. The years had stooped her just a little, softened her regimented posture.  
"How did I end up here?" So much was blur lost in a blood haze and green mist, he touched his lips momentarily tasting a lingering sweetness he couldn't place.  
"Some waif pointed you out, must have been a healer or an apostate, she saved your life, but vanished before I could ask more."  
He sat pulling the flower closer and breathing in its sent, closing his eyes remembering, a smile starting to pull at his lips.  
"Devotion. " Vitoria told him sitting on the end of the bed.  
He looked at her confused, "white honeysuckle means true love and devotion." She laughed "I found them on the table this morning can't be for me."  
Honey suckle was Dae's flower, she always bore its sent, picked them when ever she could, she had once weaved it into a crown and wore it till it wilted.  
Vitoria patted his thigh and stood. Some one out there is looking out for you boy."


End file.
